


Younger Days

by VerbenaDestroyer



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerbenaDestroyer/pseuds/VerbenaDestroyer
Summary: So I kinda had this idea of Shepard in her younger years being a rambunctious young lady. I am def a Shakarian fan but I like experimenting with Thane as well. So this is set in the time when Thane was 'disconnected' and Shepard was a young soldier. They cross paths in a shitty bar on Illium, somewhere a little 'off the grid.' My thought pattern diverged on two different tangents, and I let it go. Both versions are smutty because why not. Chapters 2 and 3 will be alternate endings to Chapter 1.





	1. Shore Leave

**Author's Note:**

> This is the original plot that both endings are based off of. Enjoy :)
> 
> Also: Bioware owns everything, I'm just writing fanfics please don't sue me :)

She threw back the shot in the practiced way she threw back most of her alcohol. However, tequila was to be savored, and for many that was a great insight into who Jane Shepard was. Her dark hair was still pulled up into its tight bun atop her head, and the dust from her combat getup still clung to the fabric. She sighed and shut her eyes for a moment, enjoying the familiar burn in her chest. She pulled up her omnitool to check the time: almost 0200. Sleep pulled at the back of her mind, but she knew she wouldn’t be resting anytime soon; this mission took its toll on her. A slaver ship had just pinged not far from the human colony Eden Prime. Her squad was going in to rescue captives and capture the slavers; pretty routine for Shepard at this point in her Alliance career, nothing she hadn’t seen before. At least, that’s what she thought until she and the rookie got to the last compartment the civilians were locked in.

 

She ushered the group of thankful and emaciated civilians through the corridor to the rookie. She made a quick scan of the room after the last slave passed her by and saw a figure slumped in the corner, sharp bones sticking out at hard angles under the sparse clothing. She called to it, hoping for an answer; dead bodies are not a rarity on these Batarian slaver ships. A small batarian peeked its head above the body, letting out a weak scream for help. She rushed to the body and saw the son still cradled in its father’s arms. The child clung to him, screeching things Shepard’s translator didn’t pick up, not that she couldn’t guess. The father was cold to the touch and without a pulse. She holstered her gun and reached for the toddler, agonizing sobs blaring like sirens. Shepard held him close to her chest and walked briskly down the corridor as the child struggled in her arms, grieving its father.

 

 She could still hear the baby’s cries. She nodded to the barkeep for her next shot. Another six weeks for this outpost and then back to Earth for reassignment. Thank God she has a whole 48 hours left of shore leave on Illium to recoup a bit. Wait, make that 47.

 

She scanned the room again while she waited for her drink; the man in the booth still had his eyes on the group of Asari at the bar. A pair of Krogans continued drinking away and grunting at each other. She took another glance at the rookie across the bar, Alenko she thought his name was. Cute, a little cocky, just like the rest. Rookie, she thought, her being a seasoned veteran of 24. She wondered what he had in him; she didn’t know much more than he was stationed on Earth before this. He caught her staring, and she held his gaze for a moment until her drink slid across the counter to her. Damned if she’d shy away at a man’s glance. Shepard threw back her shot again and sighed, letting her eyes close for a moment.

 

Her short and shallow rest was interrupted by a Turian’s distinct rumble coming through her translator.

 

“Hey there.” He took the stool next to her, looking her up and down. She scanned his face, noting the grey-tan coloring of his plates and red clan markings across his crest. Palaven issued blues, a few ribbions on his chest, but youthful curiosity coming through his tone. He shifted in her silent gaze. “I saw you over here, looks like you’re here for some R&R, huh?” His mandibles clacked in what she assumed was a nervous tick.

 

Shepard held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded to the bartender for another shot. She glanced across the room and caught the flicker of the rookie’s eyes darting away from her. She sighed, feeling like a germ in a petri dish. Her shot slid across the countertop to her again and she took it back just like the ones before. She sighed and turned slightly toward the Turian again, this time scanning him from top to bottom the way he had to her just a few moments ago. He shifted again in the stool, while still giving no indication of retreat.

 

“What are you doing here?” She lowered her eyes at him.

 

“Shore leave. Looking to have a few drinks and maybe some conversation?” He leaned ever so slightly closer to her, a subtle rumble of his subharmonics vibrating through his chest.

 

“I mean, what are you doing in that chair.” She stated the question flatly. His eyes darted around the room for a moment, looking for the suave answer.

 

“I thought a lady like you could use a little company, I didn’t see anyone sitting beside you so I thought I would introduce myself.” He stretched his arm across the back of her chair.

 

“This ‘lady’ isn’t interested.” Shepard looked over her shoulder to hear the rookie telling this horny bastard to buzz off before she had the chance.

 

“Alright man, no trouble.” The Turian held his hands up and retreated from the stool to whatever dark corner of this dive he crawled out of.

 

Shepard eyed him carefully as her took the Turian’s place. He nodded to the bartender for two more shots. He met Shepard’s gaze again, this time brave enough to hold it.

 

“I don’t need saved, rookie.” She held her shot as it slid across to her. “What made you think I didn’t want a piece of Turian ass tonight?” She snorted.

 

“I didn’t want to watch you tear that guy’s arm off. You don’t seem his type.” He smiled at her and poured his shot into his mixed drink.

 

Shepard almost snickered at that. “So you decided you’d rather have your arm ripped off?” She took her shot back, a delightful buzz beginning to fill her head.

 

“I actually just came over to get to know you a bit. Since you’re my squadmate and I’m the newbie and all.” He took a sip of his drink. “Besides, I’m much better looking than that loser.” He smiled and took another sip, enjoying the chuckle he got out of her. “By the way, my name is Kaiden Alenko; and you’re the infamous Shepard, no doubt.”

 

She leaned back in her stool, smiling at him. “I’m sure you’ve heard everything you need to know about me, then.” She sighed and shut her eyes for another moment, enjoying the buzz.

 

“We’ve all heard about Shepard, from Akuze to Anderson giving you the highest marked performance review in ten years. I’d just like to know a little about Jane.” He took a sip and caught her eyes again. “Besides, don’t you want to know a bit about me?”

 

“I’ll learn all I need to know in the field, Alenko.” She sighed and considered another shot, maybe a drink to slow down; it wouldn’t be long before the room started spinning.

 

“Call me Kaiden.” He looked at her softly. She scanned him, the alcohol clouding her usually impeccable awareness of the environment and analysis of her company.

 

“Why are you still over here, Alenko?” She said as she motioned for the bartender.

 

“Why do I still have both my arms?” He smiled as she paused before ordering a drink. Before she could comment, he slyly added, “I’m not desperate or stupid, and like I said, I know I’m easy on your eyes.”

 

Shepard sighed, letting her guard down ever so slightly. Damn whiskey, she smiled to herself. Before she could take a drink, Kaiden stood. “Why don’t you come dance for a bit?” His eyes sparkled and his lips turned up into a smirk as he leaned on the back of his stool.

 

“I don’t think so, buzz off, Alenko.” She took a drink. “You aren’t that good looking.”

 

Kaiden sighed, put his empty drink on the counter and laid some credits by his glass. “Maybe next time, Jane.”

 

“Shepard,” she corrected as he sauntered away. She finished her drink and allowed the murmur of the crowd flow in her mind. She ordered another shot, then another, and possibly a few after that; she often lost track of her drinks anymore.


	2. Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the original ending to my short little blurb. I think I like my second tangent more, I honestly got bored with this one ha. I figured I would include it anyways, just for fun :P

She looked down a few seats and saw a Drell sipping on a cup of some kind of green slurry. She let her eyes linger, her drunk mind wandering over the aspects of the uncommonly seen Drell. This one had skin the color of his drink, with a bright red lining of the neck and cowl. He wore a low cut shirt with a tight leather jacket; she could see his holster bulging from his hip. She leaned over the counter a bit as she studied the man; how many Drell had she actually met? She had been in the Alliance for six years, gone all across the galaxy, and had yet to meet a Drell.

 

Just as her mind wandered over the uncanny similarities between the Drell and human reptiles, the man turned and caught her eyes. Large, shining, black eyes captured her small, icy blue ones. Shepard couldn’t look away; he was pulling her toward him. She could feel heat rising in her chest and her heart started pounding.

 

“Can I help you?” Suddenly her mouth was dry and her chest was burning. Her mind raced for a response, but found nothing. She stared some more while uttering a series of glottal stops. “You’ve never seen a Drell before. Go ahead, stare.” He looked away, bringing his attention back to his drink. She was floored. Not many times has Jane Shepard been lost for words.

 

“No, no it’s not that. I, uh, I was just, sorry, is all. I’m sorry.” She stumbled and stuttered and managed to get at least a moderately comprehensible statement out. She felt disgusted with herself, making a damn fool of herself in uniform no less.

 

“Hmph.” The Drell grunted his response and paid her no mind. She looked away, back at her own empty drink. There was something about him, something she couldn’t name but was pulling her toward the stranger. She cursed herself for starting off with such a miserable first impression. Shepard took a breath and prepared to approach the man.

 

Just as she was standing, he put a short pile of creds on the counter and stood from his seat. She approached, catching him by the arm and earning a sharp look from the Drell. “Wait, I—I would really like to have a drink with you.”

 

He scanned her face and pulled his arm away gently but firmly. “It looks like you don’t need another one.” He turned away from her again, and Jane’s hand reached out for his arm again.

 

“Wait, just wait.” She looked up at him, disgusted with how desperate she must have looked. “I just… really want to talk to you.” Her eyes were wide, and the Drell gave her his pity.

 

“Is this business?” He eyed her cautiously, and she returned a confused shake of her head.

 

“No, no, I just want to… just talk.” She couldn’t seem to get anything else out of her mouth at the moment. The Drell sighed, accepting her invitation, and nodding towards a booth in the corner of the bar. He removed her hands once again, and she embarrassingly held them to her sides.

 

They sat at the rounded booth, the rest of the room in their sight. Usually one of Shepard’s favorite vantage points in crowded places like this. However, she only planned to have a few drinks and head to her cot for some rest; this was an unexpectedly longer visit.

 

“So, Alliance? How long?” The Drell leaned back, eyeing the human curiously. He was tired from a month long business operation, but this human was intriguing, even if she was drunk.

 

“Six years.” She said, “Left Mindoir after slavers hit and joined the Alliance as soon as I could.” She shifted in her seat, resting her arm on the table.

 

“Mindoir, isn’t that the colony that famous human is from? Shepard; survived a thresher maw on Akuze? I’ve heard her story on the vids a few times.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that I’m famous, nor do I want to be.” Shepard felt her cheeks flush.

 

“Jane Shepard is it? Nice to meet you, soldier. I apologize, I had never a clue what you looked or sounded like, else I would have recognized you.” He blinked and nodded.

 

The perfect recollections of the Drell; sometimes she wished she possessed the gift herself. “No apologies, I didn’t realize I was so well known, I’d never expect anyone to…” She was rambling, stop, she chastised herself. The realization struck that she had made a damn fool of herself and this Drell would remember it perfectly for the rest of his life.

 

“My name is Tannor.” He sensed her unease and carried the conversation on. This was turning out to be an interesting evening.

 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Tannor.” She smiled at him, willing her mind to clear and shake off whatever seemed to be taking her over. “What brings you to a place like this?”

 

He looked about, scanning the room and the patrons on the dance floor. “I’m sure it’s not much different than what brings you here.” He looked at her, his eyes almost putting her in a trance. “Long day. Needed a drink. Or two.” He smirked at her.

 

“That’s fair enough.” She smirked back. “What do you do for work?”

 

“Security guard for a warehouse a few districts over.”

 

“Liar.” She blurted out, surprising herself even.

 

“Excuse me?” The Drell tensed up, sitting up straight in the booth.

 

“Not with a Carnifax like that.” She nodded toward his holster, now covered by his jacket. “And why come all this way to a piss hole like this? I’m sure there’s plenty of bars closer to you. What warehouse do you work at?” Her innate lie detector was buzzing off the hook, but she hadn’t meant to blantanly call him out. Oh well, now it was out there she supposed.

 

“My job is none of your business, _ma’am_.” He glanced at the crowd then back to her, a cold look growing in his eyes; she almost flinched at his emphasis.

 

“Of course. Understood. I’m sorry. I—“

 

“What are your plans for this evening? It’s getting late, you must be needing to get back soon.” He interrupted quickly, changing the subject before realizing what she may infer from his statement.

 

“I don’t plan on anything, I’m on shore leave until tomorrow.” Was this his way of politely telling her to screw off now? She must have really hit a sore spot with the job thing. “But I can get going, thank you for your time.” She gave a curt farewell and rose from her seat.

 

“That’s—no, I am enjoying your company.” The words tumbled from his mouth before he could think, and he began to reach for her as she moved away. This woman was dangerous, he could tell. What was coming over him? He needed to leave and get far, far away from her before—

 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother to you.” She returned to her spot, possibly an inch closer to him than she had been. He smiled and felt his neck burning red with hot blood, his heart pounding in his chest.

 

They continued their visit in the corner of the bar, making small talk and mostly speaking about Shepard, to her discomfort. She would have much rather learned about this mysterious Drell than talked about herself, but she didn’t want to risk scaring him away again with a question that ended up being too personal. Eventually, the patrons drifted out of the bar and the bartender kicked the pair out at closing time. They stood outside on the street, just a few pedestrians milling about, most of them leaving the bar and going home. Shepard’s mind was much clearer now, still feeling a light buzz, but mostly back to her normal self. Normal, besides whatever spell this Drell had her under.

 

“So I guess this is where we part ways?” She looked at him, slightly taller than her with a strong, muscular build. His lean body stood relaxed with his hands clasped behind his back.

 

“I guess it is.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for the company, Shepard. It has been a pleasure.” He continued to smile, even though a deep urge squirmed inside him. This woman, this warrior; he was fascinated.

 

“Thank you for such a relaxing evening, Thane. It’s been great to get to know you.” She smiled and shifted her weight from foot to foot, reluctant to actually turn and leave. They stood in silence a few moments more. “Maybe we’ll cross paths again, Thane. Best of luck.” She smiled and shook his hand. She tried to let go so she could hurriedly walk away before feeling any more of these confusing emotions, but Thane held on. She looked at him questioningly.

 

He held onto her hand, unable to let this warrior go just yet. He realized what he was doing, then scanned her face for her reaction. She seemed confused, but not uncomfortable, and seemed to return a light grip to his hand.

 

“Would you like to spend some more time together?” He found himself asking, his audacity surprising himself.

 

She smiled at him, taken aback. “I think I would like that, Thane.” He released her hand and nodded down the street. They walked in silence, the energy was urgent and the tension was thick, but they walked at a normal pace toward wherever Thane was leading them. Shepard hadn’t felt this nervous around a man in… ever? Whatever this was, she was resigned to enjoy it. What exactly did he mean? More time… as in, conversation, or sex? She wasn’t quite prepared for such an educational experience, but hell, why not?


	3. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the explicit ending, very mature, much rough sex. Very different from the first ending haha Both are a bit more edgy in this one :p

Shepard pulled up her omnitool and checked the time again: 0324. She sighed, putting her own pile of credits on the counter. She turned in her stool and made her way out of the bar and to the street. The air was cool and felt soothing to her flushed face. She brushed away a bit of dust and made her way through the back streets of the shady district.

 

A few blocks in, she caught a shadow from the corner of her vision. A blur. She turned and saw only darkness; shadows in the alleyway. She stood studying it a while longer; she was the only pedestrian on the quiet street but could hear the hover cars overhead. Her gut told her to wait. Shepard stood a moment longer, hand on the butt of her pistol, allowing the incoming adrenaline flow to where it needed to be. Her legs burned, ready to move, her lungs brought deep, slow breaths. Her heart rate increased, and she felt the burn move through her chest, along her clavicle, and into her biceps. Despite her disciplined control of her rising adrenaline, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

 

After several moments of quiet observation, she allowed herself to turn and continue on her path, but left her hand on her gun. Shepard kept her eyes open wide, adrenaline nearly wiping out her buzz and replacing it with alertness. A few steps later, she heard the familiar click of a Carnifax pistol popping a heat sink. She darted into the next alley, drawing her weapon and with her back to the building. It was a distant click; to a civilian ear it would have gone unnoticed.

 

She peeked around the corner to see an empty street. She decided to follow this alley around and double back to where she had first stopped. She kept to the shadows and made her way silently to the first alley. Shepard looked again into the darkness, seeing nothing. She noticed a metal door slightly ajar, the deadbolt holding it from closing. She made her way across the empty street and to the door.

 

Jane silently let herself into the dark and greasy kitchen. She passed by some large ovens and kettles, racks of dishes, and through a squeaking push door to a dirty, sparsely furnished dining room. She grimaced as she pushed past the door, silently damning it to hell. She saw a dim light emanating from the dark staircase leading to the second floor of the building. She snuck up the stairs, both hands on her gun, eyes ahead, and ears behind her.

 

The stairs led to a small, squalid apartment. A bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen were all she expected to find. The living room was lit by a small lamp in the corner, standing in a sea of garbage and filth. The attached kitchen wasn’t any cleaner than the commercial one downstairs, but was clear of any souls. She slowly started down the hall towards the bedroom.

 

“Put it down.” She told the Drell approaching an unconscious Batarian with a knife in one hand and the pistol in the other, pointed in her direction. The Batarian was sprawled across a stained mattress on the floor. She stood in the doorway as the Drell slowly turned his head to look at her.

 

“Leave this place, Human.” He spoke to her at normal volume, obviously not afraid to wake his victim.

 

“Drop your weapons, and walk away from the man.” She inched into the room as the Drell returned his gaze to the Batarian.

 

The Drell sighed, slowly lowering his weapons. “He’s already dead. I have no more business here than you do.”

 

“Put your hands behind your head.” She barked at him, noticing the Batarian was very much deceased with no obvious signs of attack.

 

“What does an Alliance soldier want with me?” He returned, leaving both hands at his sides.

 

“Put your hands behind your head, now.” She repeated, assertion piercing through her voice.

 

“Dirty combats. Smell of alcohol. Late night solitary walk from the bar down the other end of the district. You must be on shore leave.”

 

“And taking down a murderer in my free time is like a bonus for me, so I suggest you stop fucking around.” She stood a few meters in front of the Drell, kicking herself for letting her guard down at the bar. This hitman had stalked her all the way here.

 

“I am no danger to you, soldier. I’m here on a contract, and it seems my target has made my job easy today.” He looked down at the Batarian again. A cold, emotionless energy emenated from the Drell, raising the hair on the back of her neck.

 

“I want you to get out of here.” She lowered her weapon after several moments of heavy silence.

 

“I thought I’d stay a while, such a lovely place, after all.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he passed Shepard into the hallway.

 

“A smart ass too, why am I not surprised?” She followed him down the filthy hallway, still holding her pistol. Hot muscles cramped in her biceps, adrenaline continued running through her veins. Every sense was in hyperdrive, and she could almost taste the horrible stench coming from the garbage piles.

 

“I’m sure pointing weapons and barking orders gains you many admirers.” He glanced over his shoulder. She scoffed at him. “I’m sure a few suitors took notice at the bar tonight; maybe even struck up conversation?” She stopped, a bag crunching under her feet.

 

“What the hell is your game, Drell?” He turned to face her, hands remaining behind his back.

 

“I don’t play games, Human.” He approached her slowly, tilting his head as he studied her eyes. Her racing heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in fast, shallow intakes. Her eyes wide, she fought the urge to take a step back. She held her pistol at her hip, pointing at the Drell.

 

He approached her until the barrel of Shepard’s gun pressed slightly into his stomach. He remained relaxed, eyes still fixed on hers. Shepard was tense; this man was truly fearless. Her gun was pressed against him and, and… she could smell him then; a wet, almost beachy smell, layered under gun oil and leather. His jacket was tight against his emerald skin; dark hoods of exhaustion lay under his already dark eyes, framed by the sharp crest of his brows.

 

She felt the energy between them shift in that familiar way she had come to know; a blue biotic charge rippled over the Drell; he sighed and she felt the soft air on her face.

 

“What do you want?” After another moment of study, he glanced down at her gun. Shepard held her gaze, not considering lowering her weapon. He sighed, raising both hands in the air and taking a step away from her. He nodded to her, asking again for her to lower her gun; she shook her head. He sighed again, taking his gun from its holster and setting it on the ground. He returned to his surrender position. “Knives, too.” Shepard watched him carefully.

 

“I could have killed you a hundred different ways since you stopped in that alleyway; but I will oblige.” He pulled his blade from his jacket and set it next to the gun.

 

“Assassin?” She lowered her weapon, once he disarmed himself. He had a point, if he wanted to kill he would have tried by now.

 

“We all have our day jobs.” He lowered his arms, watching her closely.

 

“You kill for money.” She holstered her pistol, keeping her hand on the butt.

 

“Are you any different, soldier?” He took a few slow steps toward her again. “I am an efficient, accurate weapon.”

 

She was quiet, watching him approach her; another blue wave shimmered down his arms. “A weapon or an animal that hides in the shadows and stalks its prey?”

 

He chuckled. “Is that what you think you are? Prey?” He leaned against the wall beside her.

 

“I want to know why you were following me.”

 

“You flatter yourself.” He smiled crookedly at her. “I was at the same bar, you did not see me, but I was aware of you and every other patron. I left to attend to my contract, you happened to leave soon after; it seemed as if you were following me. I kept to the shadows and you sought me out.” He took a moment to study her lean body, stiff with anxiety; still ready to pull her gun and shoot him through the heart.

 

“You came here to kill someone.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

 

“And I would have, had he not done it himself. Now tell me,” he cleared his throat, “you came here to kill me of your own volition, yes? That makes you no better than I, as you said, a simple ‘animal’.”

 

“I came here to protect your victim.” She felt herself simultaneously drawn to his wit and repulsed at his words.

 

“My ‘victim’ was a serial rapist, contract drafted by one of his victims.”

 

“So you’re an honorable assassin, a vigilante?”

 

“At times I have been.” He stood up straight, pushing himself off the wall. “You, on the other hand,” he took another step, so close he could feel her body heat. “You are a tired guardian angel; you can’t even relax for a few hours of free time. Always on the lookout for your next subject to protect.” She scoffed at him. “Spend a moment with someone that doesn’t need saved.” He reached to caress her cheek, knowing she would catch him by the wrist without the slightest glace away from his eyes. He smiled at her.

 

Shepard considered his offer, weighing her options. This was quite a situation; fucking an assassin in a dead criminal’s filthy apartment? His danger drew her in; all the reasons she should draw her gun and get out of there were the same reasons telling her to stay and enjoy this potentially exciting time. Someone that doesn’t need saving… someone not wallowing in their self-pity; that was refreshing. Someone that could kill her with his bare hands; had she ever met a suitor who could do that? Maybe a few who boasted so, but to be face to face, hand to hand with someone of her own skills…

 

She let a ‘what the hell’ smile escape her. He leaned in, scooping her head with one hand and her ass with the other. Their mouths met, electricity stinging between them; tongues darting in and out. He pushed her against the wall, banging her head and earning a grunt. She shifted under him, feeling a hot heaviness fall between her legs. The Drell grabbed her wrists in a fluid, lightning quick motion, and held her hands above her head.

 

Shepard let out a moan as her control was being taken, quite quickly actually. Still, she could feel the wetness in her panties growing. He broke away from their kiss, and brought a hand to her breast. He watched her moan in approval again, then moved his hand to her throat and tightened his grip on her wrists. Her eyes darted up to his, her body tensing. He’s going to kill me, he’s going to strangle me right here and now. His eyes were still dark and gave no indication to his thoughts or emotions. Panic started to set in her and she pulled at her wrists.

 

He hushed her, removing his hand and ran his hand down her body to her waist, then began removing her pants. He released her hands when he was sure she wouldn’t immediately try to snap his neck, and removed his own pants, revealing himself to her. She didn’t break their eye contact, the assassin only blinking his inner set of transparent eyelids.

 

Before she could protest she was facing the wall, his weight keeping her from moving. His controlled strength was apparent in every movement. His lips grazed against her neck and jawline, stopping to nibble on her earlobe. He made a low sound in his chest, vibrations moving through him and into Shepard. In one fluid motion he kicked her foot outward, pushed her shoulders down, pulled her hips toward his, and entered her. She let out a moan, holding onto the wall for support. Everything was happening so quickly, and she had no word in any of it.

 

He moved into her roughly, thrusting his hips forward and making her weak in her knees. He held her up by her hips and pushed into her harder. He let out a groan as he listened to her voice her pleasure. Her tight bun had loosened enough in her evening of debauchery for him to slip his hand under it and pull the hair close to her scalp; this earned another moan of pleasure from his partner. She reached her hands back, attempting to grab something, anything, and gain any semblance of control in this wild dance she let herself get into.

 

In response, he pulled her to his chest and pushed her against the wall again, still deeply thrusting inside her. Hot breath huffed in her ear, making her melt against the Drell again. He let out a satisfied chuckle, bringing Shepard back to her senses; was she going to really let this Drell take her entirely? Another biotic charge rippled over the Drell and he let out a moan of deep pleasure.

 

She used this moment to turn on him, taking him to the floor with her. She fought for the upper hand, but the assassin was too strong; she ended up under him with his hand around her throat again. She gripped his wrist, panic beginning to show in her eyes again. He smiled, tightening his grip as he moved her legs apart and situated himself between her thighs.

 

“Relax.” He said simply. At this point she had no other option but to listen and obey. She slowed her breathing, realizing she could take in enough oxygen to fill her lungs with a little effort; he was pressing on the sides of her neck rather than her trachea. She became lightheaded and started seeing spots before he loosened his hold. He smiled down at her and effortlessly entered her again, her hips rising to his thrusts. He gripped her throat again and moved into her faster and harder. She could feel the familiar wave coming over her as the dizziness set in. Another blue ripple came over the Drell and she could feel he was coming close; she was running out of time.

 

His grip became shaky, his hips began losing rhythm. She waited for him to clench his eyes with another ripple of energy, then grabbed his wrists and used her legs to flip him to the ground. She held his wrists above his head and panted as he smiled up at her. She lowered herself onto him and grinded against his hips. He moaned in pleasure, shutting his eyes and resting his head on the floor. Her breath came heavy and interrupted by moans and whimpers of pleasure as she came to her climax. He smiled and watched as she writhed on top of him, her weight heavy on his wrists. After she had recovered for a moment of slow gyration, she resumed her rhythmic bounce and grind. He regained control of his hands during this moment and pulled her to his chest as he rose his hips from the floor.

 

She took the opportunity to lick and nibble on his crimson throat, then was taken by surprise as he thrusted into her hard and fast, taking all control from her again. He let a rumbling out of his chest and shut his eyes again and let a final ripple come over him before spilling into her. He locked eyes with her again and slowly let his hips down. She ran her hands over his chest, the tight leather jacket still strapped to him. She studied him; she had met few Drell before, and certainly never had been this close to one. His eyes were deep green, darker than his skin, followed by a ring of brown and surrounded in a sea of black.

 

She removed him from her and rose to her feet. She found her pants and slid them on, ignoring the moisture between her legs. He did the same and they faced each other again. He picked up his weapons and holstered them in their respective places and Shepard ensured her pistol was securely fastened to her hip. He bowed to her then began on his way down the stairs to the bottom floor. She stood for a moment, allowing him to gain some headway to wherever he was going and caught her breath. Her legs shook under her, and she took in everything that had just happened. She gave herself a laugh then began her way back to the alley.


End file.
